Hotch's Assessment
by silverstairs
Summary: In season six we saw all the team's grief assessments but Hotch's. This is my interpretation on how it would've played out. "A good friend keeps your secrets. A best friend helps you keep your secrets."-Lauren Oliver. Can be interpreted as Hotchniss or just Hotch/Prentiss friendship. Oneshot.


Hotch's Assessment

 **AN: My take on what Hotch's grief assessment would've been like after Emily's "death" in season 6. Despite knowing she wasn't dead he would've been under intense pressure keeping this dual act together, appearing quietly grieving to the team, internally knowing the truth but still grieving the loss of his team as he knew it and being unable to turn to anyone on the team, not to mention the guilt he must feel by lying to them. Therefore I found it quite unusual that Strauss wouldn't have checked in on him at some point.**

 **Disclaimer: I don't own Criminal Minds or Scrabble.  
Please read and review!**

" _When someone you love dies, and you're not expecting it, you don't lose her all at once; you lose her in pieces over a long time—the way the mail stops coming, and her scent fades from the pillows and even from the clothes in her closet and drawers. Gradually, you accumulate the parts of her that are gone. Just when the day comes—when there's a particular missing part that overwhelms you with the feeling that she's gone, forever—there comes another day, and another specifically missing part."_

― _John Irving_

"Agent Hotchner, a word in my office?"  
Aaron squared his shoulders and followed his unit chief into her dimly lit office. He quickly analysed the room upon entry, a habit of his. The soft lighting was an attempt to put him at ease, make it feel like less of an interrogation, an invasion. The lavender was placed on a side table rather than on the office, no doubt it had been moved around many times to create a homely nonchalance in the office.

Strauss caught him looking at the flowers,  
"French lavender, I import them from Paris…Aaron we…"  
Before she could continue Hotch interrupted her,  
"With all due respect ma'am, you and I both know Agent Prentiss is alive, I am not grieving, this assessment really isn't necessary."  
Erin regarded him for a minute or so, choosing her words carefully,  
"Aaron, you are burdened with that knowledge, you more than anyone else need this assessment, besides it's not my call, the director wants your assessment on his desk tomorrow morning, now please take a seat and I promise to try and get you home to your son as soon as possible."

Hotch conceded, Strauss had looked drawn lately, and he became more aware of her age and the lingering smell of wine on her breath of late, not necessarily always after a business lunch. Right now he felt the need for a drink, a glass of whiskey in his office with Dave and Emily. With a pang he realised that this was no longer a possibility. Tough cases had become tougher, drinking with Rossi wasn't the same without Emily's dry sense of humour, they both felt her absence amplified and their routine soon ceased, tough cases left to be dealt with alone.

Strauss cleared her throat and Aaron realised he had completely zoned out. He cleared his throat, "Where would you like to begin?" he questioned.  
"You can start by telling me how you're coping."  
"Fine ma'am, at times I can feel a bit overwhelmed, which is to be understood, but I try and maintain appearances for the team, that is my top priority." 

"Why don't you tell me how you feel? A short time has passed; you've had time to reflect on things, I'd like to know how you feel today."  
"Honestly, I feel guilty. I lie every day, to the team-to myself."  
"How do you lie to yourself Aaron?"  
"I try to tell myself there wasn't anything we could've done differently, but I know in my heart of hearts that that isn't true. Emily was everyone's confidant, yet no one was hers. I know she thought she was trying to protect us by not confiding in us, but she could've…she could've told me, trusted in me."

She had been there for him through all the mess and trauma that Foyet had brought, constantly reminding him that he was not alone. Yet where was he to remind her she was not alone when she needed it the most? He put up defensive walls and so did she, only she had climbed over his, an act not reciprocated, wryly he remembered the saying; it's always the things you don't do that you regret.

Erin allowed the agent a few moments to collect himself, before posing her next question.  
"Do you miss her?"  
Hotch looked up at her, the mask of professionalism back in place, although his eyes retained a wet look.  
"Agent Prentiss was an amazing agent, the team feel her loss every moment of every day."  
"Agent Prentiss? She was more than a subordinate to you, more than an asset on your team, I'm not some external assessor that you can pull the wool over on Aaron."  
"You're right", he sighed, "I miss her very much, it's like a dull ache that won't go away, I've grieved before. With Haley, I still do and don't believe I can ever stop. But I know she is there somewhere, watching over Jack and me. Emily is alive, but I can't speak to her or see her, I know if I think about her that she's oblivious, which is almost more painful in a way."

He thought of her quick quips, the way she could lighten the atmosphere.  
He thought of her luminous smile, how it made him feel lighter.  
He thought of the way she licked her lips when she was nervous, how she bit her bottom lip when she was unsure.  
He thought of the lilt in her voice when she spoke about Vonnegut or Splenda.  
He thought of the way they played good cop/bad cop, the way they rewrote the handbook on it, their perfect chemistry.  
He thought of her tell, how she exhaled and counted to five when she was having a bad day, of how he couldn't even ask her how she is.  
He thought of how none of these things could possibly be articulated in an assessment.

Strauss placed her hand on his arm and gently squeezed, she cleared her throat, trying to draw his attention back to her,  
"Aaron? I have it on good authority that Emily is doing just fine, of course I can't disclose her location or her alias, but she's alive and well."  
He looked up at her and saw genuine concern in her eyes, mirroring his own.  
"Thank you, if that's all?"  
"Of course, thank you Aaron, you know after a tiring day I sometimes like to play online scrabble."  
"I'll have to try it sometime, goodnight ma'am."

Hotch gathered his things and left for home. In his car he couldn't help but recall Strauss' parting statement. He doubted she unwound with anything other than a bottle or two of red wine. It had to be more than a throwaway comment; he was, after all, a profiler. He arrived home and became all consumed with his son, all flippant remarks cast aside. They went through their usual nightly routine, when it came to tucking Jack in, Hotch lit a small candle and they spoke to Haley for a while, Jack telling her how his day went, trying to remember her voice, which was becoming harder to do by the day.

A few hours later Hotch went to bed himself, yet Strauss' comment from earlier was plaguing him. He wouldn't sleep till he got to the crux of it. He reached for the iPad on his nightstand and downloaded the scrabble app. He made an account and was stumped. She could've been anywhere in the world how would he know where she was,  
 _"French lavender, I import it from Paris…"_

The epiphany made him hyper; he hastily typed Paris into the location option. Only five players active, he supposed 4AM wasn't a very active time in Paris, he scanned through the players' names,  
Amelie97  
Chaussettes  
Chez Moi  
Kilgore Trout  
Bijou

Kilgore Trout! It had to be her, he was sure of it. He sent a game request; she would know it was him, after all he chose Hotch52 as his username. It was his go first; tentatively he placed the letters l-o-s-s in a line. He saw she was typing, his heart pounding erratically at the thought of finally being in touch with her. The word love formed from the L he had placed. Warmth spread through his chest and for the first time since she left he felt a genuine smile forming.

 _"I believe that imagination is stronger than knowledge. That myth is more potent than history. That dreams are more powerful than facts. That hope always triumphs over experience. That laughter is the only cure for grief. And I believe that love is stronger than death."_

― _Robert Fulghum_


End file.
